Drop In The Ocean
by justoneyesterday-xo
Summary: It's just a drop in the ocean, a change in the weather, I was praying that you and me might end up together. It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert, but I'm holding you closer than most 'cause you are my heaven — faced with an unexpected pregnancy, Massie is unable to return home; when she's taken into Derrick's care, does this give a chance to kindle the flames? [AU]
1. The Revelation

**Massie Block **was never one to feel scared.

Sure, she has felt alone, nervous, and just . . . _deprived _of emotion all together, but she has never been relatively _scared _of anything in her entire seventeen years of life. Her throat was hot and itchy, her heart was swelled up like a balloon ready to burst inside of her chest; hot tears rolled down her tan, heart-shaped face as she wrapped her arms securely around herself, knowing that there wouldn't be anyone to do the job for her. She had lost so much, she acted like it didn't matter, when in truth, it mattered a lot, it meant the _world _to her. **He** meant the world to her. But now, he was gone forever, he had been ripped away from her along with the rest of her life, which had been begrudgingly stolen by her twin sister. It tugged harshly at her heart strings, and she heaved out a sharp gasp, tightening her arms around her thin body, beginning to curl up on the cold tile floor of the bathroom that was in the room that she was stuck sharing with — with _him_, until she returned to Westchester with information on her biological mother, one that could be actually useful, but she couldn't _do _that without _his _help, in the first place. She didn't know where he'd run off to, he didn't need to tell her anything, since it wasn't like they were boyfriend and girlfriend, much to his dismay — but they'd been in L.A. for quite some time now, and, things had gone on . . . something drastically changed, something had _shifted _between the two of them, and that's honestly what made her so scared at the very moment. She was scared that once she faced him after leaving the bathroom, questions would be asked, lines would be drawn, and she would have to be face-to-face with an inevitable truth that she was not ready to admit to anyone, including herself.

"Massie," his voice warily echoed in her ears, startling her with a smaller gasp, her hand clutching at her chest for a moment before she had been able to take a deep breath. She swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears that had lodged themselves in the corners of her eyes from her excessive weeping, not wanting him to know that she'd gotten upset; it was such a weakness, and not even he deserved to see her at her vulnerable moments, no matter how much she loved him, deep down.

She wiped at the remaining tears with her wrist, licking her lips nervously to moisten them, swallowing back the apple-sized lump that had formed in the back of her throat. "Yeah?" She called out softly, hoping he didn't hear the emotion crackling in her voice. A few heart beats passed before a light knock tapped at the door, as if he was requesting permission to enter, only she did not make any sounds or sudden movement, it was her body's way of listening to the pain that crumbled in the depths of her heart.

"Massie, we need to talk," he finally answered, his voice softer than before, in almost a sigh.

"I just... I just need a minute, okay? Don't rush me." She snapped in her most harsh voice that she could muster.

"Fine. _Whatever_. Take _all _the fucking time you need, _princess_." He spat vehemently, and she could hear the sound of his angry footsteps leading away from the bathroom door, allowing her to finally release the breath that she'd been holding in. She unraveled herself from the tight hold she embraced herself in, reaching up to grab at the edge of the porcelain bathroom sink and gripping it firmly as she slowly, shakily hoisted herself back to standing on her feet, wiping the tears off her face that she didn't even know had continued falling whilst he had been on the other side of the bathroom door.

Massie nearly fainted at the sight of her reflection, she couldn't remember the last time that she'd looked so . . . so _broken_; she had always been the perfect girl, everyone admired her, wanted to be her, wanted to be _with _her. She was tough as nails, a real monster in the eyes of some, but her friends knew she wasn't _all _bad, on a certain occasion when she'd let her guard down around the girls she felt were her utter most competition at everything, all the while she loved them to death. But staring back at her through the bathroom mirror wasn't the same girl who paraded around Octavian Country Academy [_OCA_] as the Queen Bee, the one who wore the most expensive clothes, was naturally flawless, and knew she was number one. Instead, those normally strikingly beautiful golden-amber eyes were raw and bloodshot from crying so much, her mascara and eyeliner ran in such an ugly fashion down her face, and smudged around her eyes. Silently, the older Block twin cursed under her breath, hating that it had come down to this under these circumstances, because she felt that she was not allowed to diverge in the suppressed emotions that swirled around violently like a tornado inside of her. And what was worse, she knew for a fact that she couldn't return to Westchester now. She couldn't call anyone for help. She couldn't let her adoptive parents, or even her best friends, know that she'd run off to Los Angeles to find her birth mother, and in that while, something so tragic, so life-changing had happened to her in those short few weeks she'd been away.

She couldn't do _anything_.

Not while her twin sister **Claire Lyons **was living her utterly perfect life, giving her the good grades, the good graces of those around her, treating them so much differently than Sutton had ever done in her entire life. There was no way that she was able to even confront her sister, they couldn't switch lives back, it would be too confusing, too altering to keep up with at this point, because soon enough, they would no longer idly being identical twins. After briefly rinsing her face off with water, and lightly dabbing the cloth at her face, careful not to rub and tug at her skin so she could prevent any more blotches, Massie was able to leave the bathroom without being bombarded by questions by the only other person who knew she was in L.A., and not in Westchester, apart from her sister, and _alleged_ boyfriend, **Cameron Fisher**, of course.

However, being alone in the apartment, this gave Massie time to just sleep, have time for herself while he was out doing God knows what.

Without a second thought, the brunette collapsed onto the bed that they had been sharing prior to the events that had happened between them, dragging the silky Egyptian cotton sheets and the down-filled comforter over her small, lithe body until she, along with her head, was entirely covered, slowly beginning to curl up beneath her warm fortress, despite the skyrocketing temperatures of California that was overpowered by the circulating cold air that blasted out from the conditioning system that had been installed in the window closest to the bed. Massie's eyes fluttered closed as soon as she was made comfortable against the full mattress, clutching the blankets more around her as she nuzzled her head into the mountain of pillows that had strategically been placed just for Massie while she was staying in his apartment; she was knocked out within seconds, softly snoring away, hidden from the world, trapped in her thoughts, memories, and dreams. Except all she felt, was like she was getting sucked into a cataclysmic vortex of a black hole of nothingness. A powerful surge of emotion trapped and constricted itself, knotting the layers around her confused, pained heart strings; the suddenness inside hit her with such an extreme force, then when her eyes flew open some hours later, a loud scream actually emitted passed her lips, her limbs flailing wildly as she tried to fight her way out of the blanket-prison she'd encased herself in, sweating profusely because of the mixed temperatures. It took her a while before she could actually calm down. _Alone_, of course. She kicked away the sheet and duvet, rolling onto her side, inhaling deeply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth several times before she was able to slowly push herself to sitting up, running her fingers through her slightly grown out chestnut hair that reached just above the ends of her breasts, and raking the matted strands away from her face, her eyes frantically flickering around the apartment for as much as she could see.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath as she forced herself to get out of bed, gathering her hair and piling it messily into a haphazard bun on top of her head, padding barefoot into the bathroom once more after taking a stronger breath, swallowing thickly. She pulled her tank top over her head, dropping it onto the small shag rug that was pushed against the porcelain tub, her denim shorts soon following, leaving her in just her black-and-white La Perla lingerie as she drew herself a bubble bath in hopes of calming down from her odd sleep before he returned from wherever he'd run off from. While the bath was running, Massie decided to treat herself, even though she knew that she desperately shouldn't; swiftly snagging the bottle of wine that was in the refrigerator, swiping a glass from the dish washer as she went back into the bathroom, turning off the water when she saw that it had already filled so quickly, nearly overpowered and overflowing with the bubbles that subdued the crystal lukewarm water. She poured herself the first glass of wine, setting it on the edge of the tub before stripping off her remaining garments, and lowering herself carefully into being hidden by the bubbles, her skin breaking out into a rush of goose bumps from the water warming her entire body.

It felt so nice, so relaxing, it brought a brilliant smile on her face.

Picking up the glass as she lowered more into the water, she brought the wine to her lips and slowly sipped it, getting an excruciating rush from the liquor hitting her system. Although, it immediately brought some regret in the pit of her stomach, that quickly washed away with another sip of the wine, and then another, and another, and another, until all of the doubt was ridden from her brain, allowing her to enjoy the alone time she'd been granted the entire time since he'd left the apartment earlier that day. Her thoughts were just as slow as the sips of wine that washed passed her lips, and none of them surrounded the troubles that she faced having to do with her twin sister, her 'boyfriend', her parents, her adopted sister, her friends, her queen bee status, allegedly winning homecoming queen. . . they no longer bothered her at that very moment, she didn't care for any of it, and she hoped it could stay like that for as long as possible. She was tired of looking out for herself, to be strong and defensive all the fucking time, she couldn't stand putting on a show every single day, and, well, throughout the entire stay in Los Angeles, all of that was gone, aside from looking for hers and Claire's birth mother. But for how long could it stay like that? Massie didn't know the answer. Especially with the news that had been dropped on her just that morning; there was no telling of _anything_, no expectation _for _anything. It seemed to be just a touch and go process, which is not something that she was used to, in her entire seventeen years of life; normally she knew the answers for everything, was always one step ahead, but now, it was utterly hopeless and gone. _  
_

Taking her abruptly out of her thoughts, was the sound of the front door swinging open and slamming closed. Her eyes widened, and she sat up so quickly, she almost choked on the wine she'd been in the midst of swallowing back before emptying her first glass of wine; she also promised herself that it would be the only glass of wine she would be drinking . . . and now that he'd returned, that decision depended all on how things went between them.

"Massie?" His voice ghosted from somewhere in the apartment.

"Bathroom!" She called back, and then cleared her throat of the wine that felt like it was lodged in the base. Moments later, he appeared in the doorway, and immediately, all the fire that had simmered inside of her throughout the entire day because of the heated, unresolved, unrestrained feelings she had for him, emitted into thin air, evaporated into nothing. It was as if she'd forgotten how good looking he was. Maybe it was the wine, but she took their moment of silence to just bask in the gorgeousness that was _him_ as she drank in the messy Labrador-like dirty blonde mop that was his hair, that felt like she was touching the silk of a spider's web every time she'd ran her fingers through it, that the uneven tousled strands reached just a little above his earlobes, his enticing warm and humble chocolate puppy dog eyes, it was hard not to get lost in them whenever staring into them. The six foot-two stature that was lean with a muscular build from the sports he'd played in high school, ripped in a perfectly sculpted kind of way, the concerned look shadowing his face took such a turn in her thoughts, she forgot just what was happening, what she was doing, and what she had to do.

"You... uh, enjoying yourself?" He awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Yeah." Massie muttered back, setting the glass on the edge of the tub, her eyes locking with his.

"I'll let you finish your bath, we need to talk." He turned away quickly, disappearing somewhere into the apartment, leaving her alone to her bubble bath and wine.

But now that he was back, she no longer wanted to be in the bath, she wanted to talk, as he wanted to do. Pulling the plug up, Massie climbed out of the bathtub, wrapping the white fluffy towel tightly around her torso off the heating rack, picking up the bottle and the glass, padding out into view of the rest of the apartment, looking around for where he'd taken residency while waiting for her to get out of the bathroom. She found him sitting on the couch, messing around with his laptop; he glanced up at her when he heard her footsteps, and a slight smile touched his lips, their eyes never leaving each other as she put the glass in the sink, and returned the bottle to in the fridge.

"We can talk now?" He raised an eyebrow cautiously.

"Of course." She replied, taking a seat skeptically next to him on the couch; it was evident that they were both going to easily ignore the fact that she was wearing only a towel, or at least, _he _was. She slid one leg to being daintily crossed over the other, placing both of her hands on her thighs to prevent the towel from riding up, and making it even more disturbing for him than it already was. She knew that he wanted to talk about her alleged revenge sex that she'd had with him, because Cam and Claire had kissed at homecoming a few weeks ago, but what _she _intended on talking about, was similar, but it went a lot deeper, purged so much further than he would be expecting. They had always avoided talking about her vindictive, seductive way with him for weeks, but they both knew they couldn't ignore it forever, because it distracted them, and brought extreme amounts of tension in their small household they were forced to share while looking for Massie and Claire's birth mother, but that was a dead end, which also led Massie to believe that this talk might also be about Massie being back to Arizona, since there was nothing else for her in California.

"Look, Massie, I—"

"Wait, wait." she interrupted, almost too quickly, wanting to talk to him before he sent her back to her _alleged home_. She realized that she didn't need to go back, there was no purpose since Claire was successfully living the life she always wanted, fixing up all the proverbial damage that Massie had created and thrived for her entire life. He was immediately quiet, waiting for Massie to begin explaining, his eyes calm and focused, the expression on his gorgeous face told her that his emotions were in tact, very much collected, and that there would be no violent outburst if there was something that he did not like . . . however, that wasn't entirely nailed down.

"Are you alright? You look a little sick, Massie. Do you want me to get you some water? Something to eat?" She was surprised at the concern in his voice, by the fact that she hadn't even told him anything yet. She wanted to blame it on the wine, on the almost trauma-filled sleep she'd experienced after he had left the apartment earlier; but she just didn't even know what to say to him, about anything; all thoughts that clouded her mind just moments ago, exploded into millions of tiny pieces, and unfortunately to her, not leaving an ounce of recollection in memory.

"I, um... I—" She swallowed thickly, averting her eyes to looking everywhere in the apartment except for at him. In what way was she supposed to tell him, without him getting angry, without him getting overwhelmed, without becoming potentially violent and a threat to her, thanks to her knowledge of his history that was caused by his father, and her God Father, **Alec Harrington**. He was hotheaded, irrational, and sometimes dangerous, but it gave her such a thrill, that it deepened her love for him, because it's just what made him, who he was, and he had no intentions of changing for anybody, not even her. But she also knew that he would never lay a hand on her, he would be fueled with as much guilt as he would self-hatred, self-loathing, and anything that revolved around self-destruction.

"What is it, Massie?"

There was a slight edge in his voice that made her want to forget everything, to forget the talking, for them to just make up and continue the search one last time before he shipped her back to Westchester like an unwanted child forced to flee her home for a boarding school that her parents wanted her to go to, so they didn't have to deal with her drama, her rebellion, her attitude, or anything of her until school was no longer in session, and even then, since Massie was rich and fabulous, she wouldn't consider going home, she'd take a tour of Europe, or Australia, instead of returning to Arizona. Suddenly, she felt a rush of hot tears flooding behind her amber eyes, and that surge of emotion returned to the center of her heart, flaring up in roaring flames, and sucking the remnants of the pain away within a few seconds, leaving her feeling dead inside, as she stared at him longingly, while her cleared mind made the quick decision on whether or not she should just blurt out what she needed to tell him, and then lock herself in the bathroom like she'd done earlier after waking up that morning. It wasn't easily explained, it was the last thing that he would want to hear come pouring from her lips, and it was something that he most likely did not want, _with her_, ever._  
_

"Mass?"

Silently, she counted down until those final moments before a violent storm came brewing.

_3... 2... 1..._

With a quick deep breath, out came, "I'm pregnant and it's your child!", before she leaped clumsily to her feet, and streaked in a blurring run for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her once she was safely inside, and flipping the lock. Instantly, once she was isolated, the tears came out hot and fast, rushing down her face; her cheeks burned from the salty droplets that strolled. The fire returned, stronger and hotter than before. Her heart constricted, pulled, and tightened, with the battling emotions in which were fighting for dominance to take over, burying her, tunneling and ripping its way through her entire body, making her almost immediately become like she was feeling numb to the core within a few seconds. Heavy sobs were choked out, she couldn't hear what was going on from the other side of the bathroom, she only sat on the tiled floor, hugging her knees to her chest with her back pressed against the bathroom door. She didn't know what overcame her, to be responding this way from blurting out the awful news to him, but this was all she wanted to do, other than down an entire bottle of wine to drown herself in her sorrows, misery, regret, and self-hatred for every horrible thing that she's ever done in her life.

Because as of that very moment, being pregnant with **Derrick Harrington**'s child had made it to the top of the list, or at least telling him.

She couldn't decipher, she was too warped.

* * *

**AN: **_I have been trying to write this for weeks now, and I want to make this a small project for when I'm struggling with writing a new chapter for 'Belong' during my free time when I'm not working, or hanging out with my friends, embracing my social life for once. I'm not sure where I'm going to be going with this, but I wanna give The Clique a shot, take a break from the world of vampires, without actually doing so; if you understand what I'm trying to get a point across to. I got the idea of writing this when I rereading the best-selling book series by Lisi Harrison._

_I like Massie and Derrick together, if you couldn't tell from my past stories that I've posted on Fanfiction, and I will shed some detail of this AU universe:_

_1. The Pretty Committee essentially does not exist  
2. Kristen is not a major part of the story, as if she ever really was [sorry for those who are fans of Kristen]  
3. Alicia and Dylan are the best friends referred to in this chapter__ [optingly because Alicia and Massie always go head-to-head in coming out on top]  
4. Dylan and Derrick are half-siblings [this will be explained as the latter in the upcoming chapters]  
5. Massie and Cam's relationships will be explained in upcoming chapters, I don't want to give anything away here.  
6. A character that will go by the name of Marilyn Ryder will be a semi-major part of this story [taking place of Massie's biggest rival since they were young]  
7. Claire's background and how she came to Massie will be addressed in upcoming chapters, however, she was in the foster system since she was three years old.  
8. The Clique characters are, naturally, AU compared to their novel counterparts [will be addressed soon enough]  
9. Massie and Derrick's relationship will be explained and addressed as soon as possible to make things more clearer, especially how they all ended up where they were._

_Now, before I bore you, I am going to sign off, saying goodnight, and that I love all my reviewers, followers, and favoriters, more than anything, because you guys honestly make my days a lot better, next to the one guy in this world that means more to me than life itself._

_xox, hope to hear from you all soon._


	2. Some Kind Of Understanding

How long had passed since revealing of the inevitable, undeniable, life-changing truth?

Thirty seconds? A minute? An hour? Everything had seemingly stopped, time was frozen, standing still. The ticking of the second hand was the only sound that could be heard in the eerie silence of the L.A. Harrington apartment, but Derrick dare not to look over at the clock that was perched on the mantle of the electric unused and unnecessary fireplace in the spacious living room. He was afraid, that if he saw what the numbers read, he would become obliterated, and his shit would be lost, before he had a chance to stop all of his emotions from coming rushing forward — he didn't know how to react upon learning that the woman he'd be in love with for years was baring his child because of the one night they'd spent together. He inwardly groaned when those thoughts popped into his mind, progressively he felt the self-loathing that was sure to follow because of what he'd learned the very next day: Massie had only slept with him because she was using it as a ploy of revenge against her secret boyfriend and twin sister for kissing at the homecoming dance, but Derrick knew she was only upset that Claire had the alleged balls to openly be with the trouble making misfit, when Massie, herself, could not. This angered the blonde to no end, and it made the utter most sense as to why Massie never considered his love, or gave him a real chance, and why she'd chosen someone like Christopher Abeley as her _public _boyfriend, that dimwitted pretty boy that ostracized anyone who didn't live up to his standards, and was, naturally, a genuine man whore. It was no surprise to Derrick that Chris had cheated on Massie with, none other than, Marilyn Ryder: his alleged girlfriend's (_now ex_, that stupid fucker) biggest competitor since the two girls were — what, five? Maybe a little older?

His thoughts drifted back to the night they'd slept together; Massie had been on Skype with her twin sister the night of homecoming, which upset the former that she could not physically be there and forced herself to settle that Claire would be taking her place, for appearances so nothing looked out of place. However, unbeknownst to Derrick, Massie had told Cam Fisher, Derrick's ex-best friend of many years, the convict of Westchester, none the less, her boyfriend, to not attend the school event — how Claire had supplied enough encouragement that allowed her to bring him, astounded Massie, and now Derrick, too. Derrick didn't really know Claire, he just knew that she looked like the woman he was in love with, he'd only seen her through video chat, along with hearing her soft soprano voice. It clipped at his heart strings when he caught himself smiling, and then he swallowed thickly, quickly shaking his head to rid any thoughts that belonged to Massie, or even Claire. It was too painful, at the moment. But, still. He needed to think about the L.A. twin, unfortunately. She was pregnant with his baby. _Yes_, it came to a shock, but under the circumstances they were in, he was _less_ than thrilled by the thought that they would be tied together by . . . _their _unborn child.

Doing the unthinkable, Derrick pulled out his blue iPhone 5c: dialing the first seven serial numbers that floated through his mind, pressing the green button, and bringing the phone to his ear, running a shaking hand through his shaggy dirty blonde hair. . . he held his breath as he waited for someone to pick up on the other line, his heart becoming erratic inside of his chest the longer he heard the dialing tone; he was nervous beyond belief, but he knew he couldn't hang up until he got through to either the person or their voice mail so he could leave a message.

* * *

Massie listened carefully to the noises on the other side of the door, clutching her knees tighter against her chest. It was eerily silent, which she possibly could have taken as a good sign, since it was Derrick that she was dealing with, and he was rarely the one to be silent whenever his emotions were catching up with him or something was going on, especially something as fitted as her being pregnant. Slowly, she lowered her legs to resting against the cool tile of the bathroom, stretching them out and pointing her toes, her hands fluttering down to her stomach, her fingers caressing at the scratchy yet soft fabric of the towel that covered her torso; her throat tightened at the touch. It was foreign to her, to feel the small but defined bump that protruded from between her hips, but it was definitely there, marking that she was no more than six or seven weeks pregnant. A coil of guilt constricted around her heart, as she thought back to that night once more. It had killed her since she had let herself believe that she'd been in love with Cam for the past year that they've been secretly dating, and what made it even worse, was that Claire had managed to up everything, and expose the entire relationship in front of everyone at homecoming. That was the last thing that Massie wanted. _Yes_, she cared about Cam. _Yes_, apart of her _did_ love him. But she couldn't handle the pressure of being with 'Westchester's Most Wanted' because of the reputation that needed to be upheld, and she was _ever so grateful_ that morning when she realized that she would no longer need to _be_ apart of that, because she _couldn't_ return home, or that's what she was _hoping_ anyway, once her and Derrick got down to really talking instead of her blurting out the truth, then running away into the bathroom. . . Massie knew it was wrong of her to sleep with Derrick in order to get back at the 'over exposed', but truthfully, being with him in the most deeply personal way had been something she longed for, for a while. She just wasn't ready to admit it, especially to herself. Not since Derrick was her best friend's brother.

Once again, Massie lifted herself up from the bathroom floor, simultaneously dropping the towel to pooling at her paraffin-waxed feet as she picked up the clothes she'd worn prior to the bubble bath, slipping back on the lace La Perla [save for the bra], white Splendid vintage Heather active crop pants that she rolled to be cuffed just above her knee caps and navy blue Banana Republic double-trim V-neck pullover sweater that slouched slightly from her left shoulder. She flipped the lock on the door, creaking open the door and slowly padding out to where she'd left the Labrador-like boy she was so very much in love with, her eyes locked on his frozen body, taking in the hunched-over curving of his torso, the constant raking of his fingers through his choppy hair, the slight shaking of his limbs. He reminded Massie of a drug addict that was having excessive withdrawals, such as heroine, or even an alcoholic, who was trying to get themselves together and not use the substance — both of which she could see in him because of the trembling, but she knew, or at least she _hoped_ that the father of their child was neither.

He hadn't noticed she'd come out of the bathroom, which she took this time, standing behind the couch, gazing longingly at the male. She loved him, so much more than she had ever loved Cam. . . honestly, what had she been thinking to secretly date Cam, when she could have had Derrick all along? But, then again, it was this spectacular trip to California that had brought the blonde and brunette closer together. Would that have been something as equally sparked if they had been a couple? She didn't know. But what she did know, is that both of the boys were similar, in so many different ways, but when it came down to it, Derrick was the winner — she longed for her perfect feathers to be ruffled. And, just like that, they were. Sure, she never really explored the different angles in her relationship with Cam since they were together in secret, but with Derrick, this time together, with no one knowing who they were, with no one knowing that _she _was with him, doing the ultimate while in search for her mother, Massie felt _different_. Not just that she was pregnant, but something had definitely snapped inside of her. She didn't feel like the same girl she was when she'd left Westchester to seek out Derrick in order to get information on the woman they presumed to be the mother of her and Claire. She needed to get so much out, to let Derrick know what was really on her mind, in order for things to be set straight. . . but she could not predict how their conversations would go.

"Derr?" she mustered softly, finally deciding she wanted her presence acknowledged.

Slowly, his body stirred, his neck craning slightly so he could look up at Massie with his wet puppy dog eyes. Her heart clenched in agony at the hidden expression that he tried so hard to mask with a cold, stony glare — she knew this boy well enough that he was hurting inside. Deep down, Derrick was still reeling over the fact that she'd slept with him to get back at Claire and Cam; if only he knew half of what had gone through her mind that specific night, and the days that followed up until where they were now. He was wounded because he thought she returned the strong feelings he'd revealed to her, she was wounded because he thought so coldly, so lowly of her _now _that he wasn't going to believe any of what she intended on saying to him before the night was over.

"What?" She could hear the hollow emptiness in his voice, and it created a pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach that made her want to vomit.

"You wanted to talk.." She replied slowly in a teensy reminder.

"Right." He gave a small nod, gesturing for her to sit with him again, and at first, she was reluctant, but she rounded the couch to being perched beside him. They stared at each other for a few moments, the only sound being their soft breathing, the rattling of the air conditioning, and the heavy pounding of Massie's heart as the blood clogged her ears.

"Derrick, I just wanna—"  
"Look, Massie—"

Both of them started giggling when they cut each other off, their lips never parting, their eyes never leaving each other's. For a moment, things felt normal, things were calm and sufficient between the two long-term friends; it was as if nothing was wrong and they could be themselves just as they'd been doing since Massie's arrival in Los Angeles. But, it was a front. And they couldn't put anything off any longer. Massie needed to lay it out on the table, and hope for the best, hope that he did not send her back to New York, pregnant with his child; or worse: tell her to get rid of the baby. Even though she'd just found out that she was gonna be birthing this tadpole inside of her, she already felt attached to it, she couldn't wait to experience the next nine months of her life, whether Derrick was at her side or not.

Massie cleared her throat. "Derrick, I—I just wanna apologize... for what happened."

"Sleeping with me, or that it's _my_ sperm got your ass pregnant? If that thing _is _mine." He all but spat at her face, the good mood disintegrated within an eighth of a second.

"No, for the reason you _thought_ I slept with you." She nearly gasped at the harshness of his choice of words. Massie fought to keep herself composed, attempting to maintain eye contact with this boy that made her desperately want to cry just because he'd called the tadpole in her womb, _a thing_, as she swallowed thickly and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, waiting for any kind of reaction, and when she didn't get receive anything, she took this as a sign to continue. "Derrick, I know you think we slept together because I was mad about the kiss at homecoming, but—"

"Stop right there." The blonde almost growled, but she didn't listen;

"I just need you to know that I am not that vindictive to pull that kind of stunt. Yes, I was pissed off Claire and Cam had kissed in front of everyone, but, honestly, that was the least of my concerns. Derr, I don't _care _about them, not anymore. I don't _care_ about my life in Westchester. I don't _care_ about finding my birth mother; I just want to make things _right_ with you, let you know that I—I _do_ love you, and that I am happy_ you_ were the one to take away my virginity. That I am happy this is _your_ baby." The words poured from her mouth before she could give it a second thought, her breath hitching in her throat and her heart grinding so harshly against her ribs that she thought it would burst from its captivity; her eyes widened, and she didn't even realize it, that she'd pressed herself firmly into the couch, gripping at the cushions as if her life depended on it.

"I'm listening..." He muttered in a barely audible whisper.

"It was just horrible timing," She admitted, listening to the breaking of her voice — her throat became hot and itchy, her eyes burned with a fresh batch of tears. Immediately, Massie knew that she would not be able to hold off on the emotions that were about to pour out with the sobs that had her body nearly racking in trembles.

"Mass," his voice was a little more clearer, but still soft, she could still hear the hollowness that immersed his voice.

"I really am sorry you think so horribly of me..." She continued, the ruptures in her voice becoming more apparent; she could feel her emotions slipping through the cracks in proverbial brick wall that kept her _humanity _at bay, buried deep inside of her. His finger touched at her chin, slowly tilting her head up; she hadn't even realized that she was looking down at her lap now. She twisted the loose thread that came off her shirt around her index finger until it started to bulb and begin to turn purple, her eyes locking with Derrick's once more.

"Why did you start dating Cam?" Derrick blurted out impulsively.

"I wanted t— I mean I—" She quickly thought it over, back to what had gone through her mind while locked away in the bathroom, and in truth, there was no logical reasoning behind it. "I—I don't even know," she breathed out slowly, and then swallowed hard, the urge to break eye contact became fiercely strong, but she knew she needed to keep looking at him in order to get him to believe everything she was saying, that was the one thing she desperately wanted more than anything.

His upper lip twitched, and Massie knew that he wanted to laugh. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded vigorously before she could stop herself. "Why did you get so mad when Claire kissed Cam?"

"It was an impulsive reaction..." Her head continued to shake, it was the only way she could fight the tears from beginning to stroll down her face. "I don't even know why I got so bad, I just... I—"

"You were mad that Claire blew the big secret?" Derrick cautiously raised an eyebrow at her.

"No," she merely wept out under her breath. "Yes.. maybe. I don't know."

"Massie," He let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes, unexpectedly clasping her hands in his much larger ones. "You can be really stupid sometimes."

Instantly, Massie's tears disappeared after several blinks of her eyelids. She stared at him, wide-eyed and mouth gaped. No one had ever said the word _stupid _to her, even as a hearty nonchalant throw-y kind of conversation, which clearly, Derrick was using it seriously and jokingly. And from the amused expression on his face, he was enjoying the befuddled look that crossed her beautiful, prominent features. "Did you just—"

"_No_, I'm not _directly_ calling you stupid. I'm just saying that you do _a lot_ of stupid things..." Derrick's voice trailed off, and the new flicker of emotion in his eyes allowed her to know that it was finishing the sentence for him — it melted somewhere in the _when you're in love _department, and _such as getting pregnant at seventeen_. Both of which, he was spot-on about. But there was no need to say it aloud.

Before Massie could say anything else, the moment of silence had been interrupted by the ringing iPhone in Derrick's hand. Eye contact finally severed, and they both glanced down at the electronic to see who was calling him. Massie's heart tightened in her chest at the sight of the flashing serial numbers and the name that was printed above it: _Dylan_. Derrick's half-sister, and one of Massie's best friends in the entire world.

Slowly, his thumb dragged along the screen to answer the call, bringing it up to his ear, forcing a smile to play on his lips. "Hey, Dylan."

Massie could just barely make out what was being said on the other line; _Derr, you sounded so freaked out on the voice message you left me earlier. Is everything alright? Does this still have to do with Massie and Cam being together? Because if it does, I swear to God, I will—_

Derrick let out a weak laugh, "It's nothing... Everything's okay now. I promise."

_Okay... Derrick, when are you coming home? _

A sigh touched both his and Massie's lips. "I'm not sure, little sis," he muttered into the receiver. "There's, um, there's a lot going on..." His eyes flickered up to Massie's face momentarily, before looking back down at his lap, clutching the phone to his ear.

_Like what? _

"It's not something... I can talk about, ri—right now.." Derrick stammered nervously; Massie knew that he hated doing this to his younger sister; that's all they've been doing since Massie had discreetly left Westchester and Claire temporarily took her place: _lie_. "Look, Dylan, I need to go. I—I'm sorry; I'll call you tomorrow." Derrick uttered in a quick, quiet promise before ending the phone call, letting out a heavier sigh as he looked up at Massie again.

"You called her?" Massie asked, arching a perfect eyebrow.

Slowly, Derrick nodded at her, in a sigh he replied with, "I didn't know who to talk to."

"Oh." She gave an understanding nod of her own, nervously licking at her lips. Derrick leaned in, his lips lightly and softly brushing against hers, his hand reaching up to gently cradling at her face, continuing to hold her even after he pulled away, his smoldering brown eyes staring locked on her perfect face; drinking in the sight of the stained mascara on her cheeks, the glassiness in her eyes, and the slight trembling of her pouty pink lips. He knew she was prepared to cry again, and all he could do was smile. "God, how can you look at me? I'm hideous." He blurt out an abrupt laugh, shaking his head at her. She knew it was lame of her to be vain at the moment, but she couldn't help it.

"You're beautiful, Mass." Derrick assured, stroking at her face gingerly, brushing a few strands of hair away from her eyes and lips.

This warmed her heart, the cold attitude was only a memory. Things were halfway settled, even though she hadn't gotten out half of what she really wanted to say, but Derrick was no longer angry with her for a stupid decision that she'd made. Derrick always thought she was beautiful, she knew. But she loved hearing him tell her that she was. It was a distraction, to keep them from talking about the future of the baby, it halted the serious talk about what had happened between them; she was okay with that, for the time being. If only it could stay like that for the rest of her their lives. His fingers laced with hers, secure and firm, giving her a reassuring squeeze that allowed her to know that he would be there for her through it all, without even saying anything, his smile coming up on his lips like a proverbial Cheshire grin. Massie scooted closer to Derrick, their shoulders and legs touching. She loved the way his skin felt against hers, she adored every single one of his touches no matter how little or how grand they were; it made her feel so protected, so loved, so cherished and wanted — nothing like the way she felt whenever Cam had touched her. Even though her and Cam had never been together the way her and Derrick had, Cam still let his rough side show, aggressive and dominant in showering her with their version of love, yet not quite making it to Cam receding in deflowering her, and that was really the _only _side she'd came into contact with. Due to their respectively secret relationship. It made her wonder whether or not Claire would get that far with Cam, and ever more so, she found herself not caring.

Right now, all that mattered was Derrick.

But, leave it to Derrick to ruin everything just by uttering the dreaded seven words.

"_I think you should return to Westchester_."


End file.
